


After the Battle

by organanation



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Han and leia just want to sleep, adorable cuddling, drunken rogues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 09:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8618842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/organanation/pseuds/organanation
Summary: The Battle of Endor has been won and Han and Leia are ready for some quiet time together and a peaceful night's rest. However, they are finding it rather impossible to get either one...





	

The liquor was flowing freely and the din of the party was getting louder and louder. There would still be an immense amount of work to be done come morning: empirical cells to break up, governments to organize, and a galaxy to repair, but tonight was a night for celebration. 

Han and Leia were watching a slightly-drunk Jedi and a slightly-more-drunk mining facility administrator try to dance to the jaunty tune the ewoks were beating out on their makeshift drums. Chewbacca had turned in hours ago, promising Han that he’d protect the Falcon from any ‘drunken shenanigans’. Leia had been nursing the same glass of wine since the beginning of the party, and Han had flatly refused any refills on the first glass of what he had deemed ‘fuzzball rot-gut’. 

“Hey, Ha-an! Com'n, yo’ll fool, we foun' some fireworks!” Slurred a very drunk Wedge Antilles. 

“Sorry, boys. Not for me. This old fool is gonna get some sleep,” he called back. The Rogue Squadron stumbled off in the direction of the forest. “You wanna go with them?” Han teasingly asked the woman who was nearly asleep on his shoulder. 

“I want to sleep for a standard month,” she mumbled back. 

“Can I come? I’m pretty good at keepin’ little princesses warm.” 

“Run across a lot of them in deep space?”

“Just one. Kind of a pain. Pretty good cuddler, but she’s got the coldest skin I’ve ever felt. I think she’ll recommend me.”

“Then I suppose you can come,” she teased. He pulled her to her feet and tucked her under his arm. They exited the clearing and started back towards the hut. 

There was an explosion a few hundred years away, followed by several loud whoops from the drunken Rogues.

“Luke and Lando aren’t staying with us, are they?” Leia asked.

“They’re not if they want to keep all their limbs.” Han secured the door behind them and helped her divest herself of the rough ewok dress and the long-sleeve shirt underneath it. He cut off the bandage that was wrapped around her arm and gently cleaned away the excess bacta gel. She sat quietly watching him with a tender expression. 

“Does it hurt?”

“Like hells,” she admitted. He rolled his eyes and dug behind him in the medpack. 

“You coulda said somethin’,” he replied, handing her a pain capsule that she swallowed without water. 

“But you would have left to get me something and I didn’t want you leave,” she whispered sheepishly. He smiled. “Kiss it better?” His smile grew and he dropped his head to her shoulder. She flinched as soon as his lips made contact with the charred skin, however, and he jumped back. “Sorry. It’s worse than I thought.” He pulled her close again and pressed his lips to hers.

“That’s alright. This’ll heal it from the inside, and any other scrapes you got,” he promised, kissing her again. It was mind-numbingly blissful and she almost forgot about how tired she was until Han pulled back to yawn. They chuckled together.

“I’m tired We’re tired,” she whispered. 

“To bed, then, your highness,” he teased. He stripped and tucked himself in beside her a few moments later. 

“Will you still be here when I wake up?” She asked. It was still hitting him how his time in carbonite had affected her. 

“Unless you kick me out.”

“Not gonna happen, flyboy. I don’t plan on letting you out of my sight for the next 40 years or so.”   
“I guess I can handle that.” He felt around in the dark, trying to get comfortable on the peat moss pallet. “Do I at least get to keep some of the covers?”

“No.” She pulled the blanket further from his wandering hand. He kissed her passionately and she relinquished her hold on the blankets. He pulled her to his chest, wrapping them in a cocoon of heat. 

“If I have to keep you warm, I get covers,” he argued, kissing her again.

“I love this,” she mumbled into his mouth. 

“It only gets better from here,” he drawled. She nestled into him, her ear falling over his heart. 

“I love you,” she muttered sleepily. 

“I know.” 

00

Something ran into the door around 0500, startling Han and Leia awake. Han reached for his blaster, pushing Leia behind him.

“Shhh!” Someone hissed from the other side of the door.

“You shhhh!” 

“Han’s gonna kill us’f we wake ‘em up,” someone said in a drunken whisper that was actually just a few decibels shy of a shout. 

“Is that Lando?” Leia whispered into Han’s ear. He nodded.

“Never could handle his liquor. Sounds like he’s got half the Rogues out there with him. Damn fools.” More banging and shushing.

“Wait! What’f he’n the princess’r goin’ at it?”

“Hey, ‘ts my sister.”

“Your brother,” Han captioned.

“They went to bed hours ago. Even Han can’t last that long.”

“Corellians kin go all nigh’.”

“There’s Antilles.” Han muttered. The door banged open suddenly and there was another rousing chorus of shushing. Lando and Luke stepped in first, peering through the darkness.

“Calrissian, if you want to live to see the light of day, I suggest you take your little entourage and clear outta here immediately,” Han demanded.

“Run!” Lando ordered. Leia snorted as her brother dove out one of the open windows and combat-rolled onto the decking outside. The running footsteps grew distant and Han looked over at the door that was still swinging open. Suddenly, a hand shot in and slammed the door. 

“Why didn’t we just sleep on the Falcon?” Leia asked, settling back into his embrace.

“I followed you,” he mumbled.

00

Leia thrashed against him, muttering urgently and incoherently. Han sat up, pulling her upright with him. The motion was enough to wake her up and she clutched at him, burying her face against his neck in a tangle of hair and arms and gasping breath. She sobbed into his shoulder, holding on to him for dear life. Han leaned back against the wall and drew her into his lap, rubbing at the knots in her back.

She didn’t have to tell him what she’d been dreaming about. She’d had a nightmare the previous night, too; it had been worse than this one, especially since he hadn’t known the reason. He’d hoped that she’d have at least one night of respite from the horrible truth that was haunting her, that her sheer exhaustion would keep the nightmares at bay.

Her cries quieted, but she did not pull from his embrace. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry I woke you up again,” she mumbled into his chest.

“T’s alright. I was getting’ stiff layin’ on that moss, anyhow,” he whispered into her hair. 

“It’s all so…overwhelming.” 

“You know I’m not goin’ anywhere, right? I made that clear this afternoon?”

“Abundantly so.”

“Good. I love you. I don’t care if it’s too early in the mornin’ or too early in our relationship to say this, but you’re it for me, Leia. I’m as sure about this as I’ve ever been about anything. I won’t ever feel this way about anybody. And I know that hearing that doesn’t make this…whole thing any better, but I hope it takes a load off your mind knowin’ that I’ll be here through it. No matter what.” 

“It does. I don’t think… I don’t want to do this without you.”

“You won’t have to on my watch, sweetheart. I’m right here.” She sunk into his embrace and fell asleep again.

00

Leia opened her eyes to the chilly Endor morning. Very late morning, she amended, checking her chrono. She no longer felt the pain from the nightmare, just comfortable security from Han’s assurances. She was delightfully warm and relished the feeling of every inch of her body pressed up to his. She put her cold nose into the soft place in his neck and he started awake. 

“What the…” He began, but was silenced when Leia kissed him. “Geez, your worship. I would’a been willin’ to kiss you without that part, you know,” he teased, pulling her into a better position. 

“I could get used to this,” Leia sighed against his lips. 

“Get used to it sweetheart, because there’s no way this is the last time this is happening,” Han assured and she giggled. There was a knock on the door. “Damn. I thought they’d all be too hungover to bother us,” Han huffed, not moving. 

“Maybe if we ignore it, they’ll go away,” Leia suggested, kissing him again. It was her turn to huff when their caller knocked again. 

“Mistress Leia!” 

“Threepio,” Han growled. 

“He’s not going to go away,” Leia whispered. 

“I know,” retorted Han. 

“Then answer the door.” 

“You.” 

“It may have slipped your notice, hotshot, but I don’t happen to be wearing much of anything,” she said sarcastically. 

“Oh, I definitely noticed, your worshipfulness, and I happen to be wearing just about the same thing,” he said in that low drawl coupled with a grin that made Leia’s insides melt. Han pulled her to him and the droid knocked again. Leia pushed herself off him and found his shirt on the floor as Han pulled on his pants. They opened the door to find not only the droid, but also Lando, Luke, Wedge, and Wes, all of whom looked to be five minutes away from death. Leia stepped behind Han to hide her indecency. 

“What?” Han demanded impatiently. 

“You owe me fifty credits, Janson.” Wedge muttered, looking through half-lidded eyes at Han and Leia in disarray. 

“General Calrissian, Master-Jedi Skywalker, Commander Antilles and Captain Janson are all in need of something for their hangovers,” Threepio told Han. 

“And just what do you think we can give them?” Han asked, mystified. 

“Chewbacca informed me…” Threepio began, but Han interrupted. 

“Oh, Chewie told you that, did he?” 

“Yes, General.” 

“Damn him. I knew he’d find some way to…” Han began. Leia interrupted. 

“Go find a Med-droid,” Leia ordered from her place behind Han. Threepio was not about to question his mistress, so he teetered off in search of a Too-one-bee. 

“Old fool,” Wedge ribbed. 

“At least I can see straight, Antilles,” Han threw back. 

“Remind me later to tell you not to hurt my sister because I can torture you with my mind now,” Luke mumbled, putting immense pressure on one of his temples. 

“Luke!” Leia protested. 

“Sure, kid. Anything you say,” Han agreed, closing the door. “He can’t really do that, can he?” 

“I don’t know. I’m going back to bed.”

“Can I come?”

“Only if you promise to misbehave,” she whispered wickedly. 

“I’m a scoundrel, sweetheart. Misbehaving is my specialty.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please R+R!


End file.
